「In a private school's study, within the Calligraphy Realm.」
The scholar Zhou Ziang slowly woke up, still slumped over his desk. He raised his head in a daze, a dull ache throbbing in his neck.
He glanced at the puddle of drool he'd left on the desk, and a strong sense of unreality washed over him.
'Could it be…'
'Was everything that just happened only a fleeting dream I had after dozing off from my studies?'
He laughed self-deprecatingly. 'Perhaps it was. After all, how could a poor scholar like me ever encounter an Immortal?'
But…
The image of that Immortal was still so clear in his mind: robes fluttering, a dashing figure who treated gods and ghosts as nothing.
Of course, even clearer—so clear it made his very soul tremble—was the scene of Mr. Lin using another living person like a sword, swinging him about with whistling force and smashing the female ghost with a resounding PANG! PANG!
Terrifying!
